Was There a Blue Death?

I remember a day back in High School when the regular teacher was absent and the substitute used the hour to read a Poe classic to the normally boisterous class.

First, the substitute was a graying, middle-aged gent who might be mistaken for the wrestling coach; however, he was a French teacher and spoke with a willowy lisp. He was precious, in a Percy Dovetonsils way. But he was also a great story-teller and that day he held the class in thrall with Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death.

In this time of Covid-19 we all have plenty of time and hopefully that means lots more reading: books, books, books.

Sadly, I haven’t held Edgar Allen Poe in very high regard for years. It’s not that I see him as a bad writer but possibly too light-weight to earn the common accolades often afforded him. I think the same thing about Kinky Friedman, but I still read an occasional Friedman story so maybe I should go back a reread many of the Poe stories that made such great midnight snacks in my youth. However, I will continue to avoid Stephen King and Anne Rice.

I’ll start with The Masque of the Red Death since it is so topical nowadays. You?

ACOR

In continuous operation since 1997: 24 years of reading with occasional outbursts of senility and frustration.

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“A pandemic is a lot like a forest fire. If caught early it might be extinguished with limited damage. If allowed to smolder, undetected, it can grow to an inferno that can spread quickly beyond our ability to control it.” -George W Bush